


Christmas, 1970: The Evanses

by feetonthemoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Family, Gen, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Pre-Hogwarts, Pre-Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feetonthemoon/pseuds/feetonthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lily's last Christmas before going to Hogwarts and before her parents finally learn she's a witch. That means it might be her last chance at a nice, normal Christmas day, and that's exactly what she's aiming for. But, as always, Petunia makes everything harder that it needs to be, and Severus isn't much help either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas, 1970: The Evanses

Lily jumped out of her bed and ran down the corridor to her sister’s bedroom. Without knocking the door, she rushed in and went straight to the windows. The energy with which she drew the curtains almost tore them.

The cold light of the dawning day invaded the room. Petunia groaned and covered her eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” Petunia’s voice was barely audible from underneath layers and layers of blankets.

Lily ignored her and just looked out the window with a smile on her face. “It’s snowing!”

“Yes, it’s lovely,” replied Petunia without even taking a peek. “Now, will you go away? I want to sleep.”

“You can’t sleep!” she turned to look at her sister, but she was still buried in the covers. “It’s Christmas, Tuney! We’ve got to wake up mum and dad and open our presents.”

Petunia sighted in resignation: she knew there was no way she could go back to sleep, not with Lily in full Christmas mode. She slowly crept out from between the covers, letting her eyes get used to the light that came from outside.

Lily was next to the window, beaming. “Merry Christmas, Tuney!”

“Merry Christmas, Lily,” Petunia replied rolling her eyes, but smiling nevertheless. Since Lily could remember Christmas had always been her sister’s favourite holiday.

Lily turned around again to look outside and something on the ledge caught her attention: the flowers that usually looked so lively were completely covered in ice. She opened the window to grab them and a freezing wind came rushing in, just as Petunia was getting out of bed.

“What are you doing? It’s cold out there, Lily, close the window!” she hugged herself to stop from shivering.

Lily closed the window and studied the plant she was holding with extreme concentration.

“STOP IT!” Petunia shouted, because she knew what her sister was doing. “Don’t you dare!”

But Lily was determined to help those flowers and she ignored her sister. The truth was that she still had no idea how to manage her powers. Severus had said that once she had a wand it would be easier, that doing magic without a wand was very hard. At first, every bit of magic she did was involuntary, but she had been practicing lately, and just the other day she had managed to make a snowball fly using only her powers.

She looked at the plant so intensely that she was beginning to get crossed eyed. She was about to give up when she noticed that the ice on the tip of one of the leaves was melting, and that the leaf itself was turning a bright and healthy green. Petunia must have noticed it too, because she hurried towards her sister and knocked the flowerpot from her hands.

“You FREAK!” she was screaming “I told you not to do it! You ruin everything, Lily, EVERYTHING. Even Christmas!”

Lily just stood there, looking at the mess of dirt, ice and terracotta on the floor. She had tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to cry. You were not supposed to cry at Christmas, especially not this Christmas.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“Well, don’t. I don’t want to have anything to do with that… thing you do.”

It was very fortunate that Petunia could never bring herself to actually saying “magic”, because at that moment, Thomas Evans walked into the room with his battered old dressing gown.

“What’s going on in here?”

Lily turned towards her sister with imploring eyes. Their parents didn’t know anything about her being a witch, and she didn’t want to tell them. They would think she was insane. She was better off waiting for someone from Hogwarts to come and talk to them when she turned 11 -in just about a month.

“Lily dropped my flowers and they shattered,” Petunia explained. She was in no hurry to let their parents know, either. She wished they never had to learn about the whole thing. She was dreading the moment that this so-called school would send for her sister, because she knew it would tear the family apart.

“Lily, you have to be more careful, love,” Mr. Evans told her younger daughter.

“Yes, dad,” she replied, and then she turned to look at Petunia. “Sorry, Tuney.”

“Now, Petunia, why don’t you go wake up your mother while me and Lily clean up this mess?”

Petunia nodded and started to walk away. As she was getting out of the room his father called her again: “What? Not even a Christmas hug?”.

Petunia rolled her eyes but smiled and turned around to run towards her dad. She hanged herself around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, dad.”

“That’s better. Now go wake up the sleeping beauty.”

Petunia left, leaving Lily and her father alone. He gave her a warm smile and kneeled down next to the remains of the flowerpot.

“You’ve been awfully clumsy lately, love,” he commented as he started to pick up the pieces and throw them in the bin. He was right. She had been dropping a lot of things in the past few weeks, because she had been trying to practice levitating different objects; she wasn’t very good at it, so they invariably ended on the floor.

“I know, I’m sorry,” was the only thing she could say.

"And I've noticed you and your sister are not getting on like you used to."

Lily felt her body tense. Both of them had tried to act normal in front of their parents, but they weren't stupid. They could tell something was wrong with their girls. Lily avoided looking into his father's eyes (green, just like hers) and just kept on putting the pieces of terracotta into the bin. He could feel him staring at her.

"It's been months since your mum and I noticed you were acting strange with each other, but we thought you would work out whatever it was on your own," her father continued. "We're getting worried now."

"There's nothing going on, dad. I promise." Oh, how she hated lying to him, but what else could she do?

"I just want you both to know that, whatever is going on, we are here for you, okay?" he said with a reassuring smile on his face as he finished cleaning up the mess.

She couldn't help but wonder if they would feel the same way after learning that their little girl was a witch. What if they reacted like Petunia? She pushed those ideas out of her head: they loved her, and they would accept her. They had to, because, otherwise, what was she supposed to do?

"Now, I think I hear your mother getting out of the bed, and we don't want her to get downstairs  before we have a nice warm cup of coffee for her, right?"

"Right," she replied, relieved that the topic of she and Petunia was dropped.

 

After opening their gifts and drinking a gigantic mug of hot chocolate each, the whole Evans family prepared to go to church. Lily put on as many layers of sweaters as she could fit under her coat and jammed into her pocket a small package she had prepared a couple of days before. She wrapped a scarf around her neck and decided to wear the knitted hat she had received that morning. Petunia had received one as well, identical except that it was purple instead of green. Lily hoped she would wear it as well, so that it would be like when they were younger and their mum dressed them in matching outfits; she used to hate that, but now she kind of missed feeling like part of a set, like a unity.

Unsurprisingly, Petunia didn’t wear the hat (most likely for the same reason that Lily did).

 

Lily and Petunia hadn’t make peace after the flower incident and the short walk to the church was much tenser than any of the family members would’ve liked it to be. Their parents didn’t say anything, but they shot meaningful looks to each other, which their daughters saw but chose to ignore.

By the time they reached the church the girls were walking behind the grown-ups. Their parents walked into the old stone building first and stopped to talk to Father Paul. The next one to walk in was Petunia, and for a moment Lily was the only Evans outside.

Suddenly something seemed to connect in Petunia’s head, because she turned around quite abruptly to look at her little sister. A number of emotions appeared to overcome her: doubt, fear, curiosity. Lily wasn’t sure why all of a sudden Petunia was paying that much attention to her, but Petunia seemed scared and that scared Lily. She contemplated not going in, but how was she supposed to explain that to her parents, or to Father Paul?

She took a deep breath and walked into the old church.

Nothing happened.

Petunia sighed in relief, and promptly returned to her cold demeanour. She walked over to where their parents were and said hello to the Father. Lily still didn’t know what had happened, but she was fine and Petunia didn’t seem scared anymore.

“Merry Christmas, Father,” Lily said as she reached the rest of her family.

“Why, Merry Christmas to you too, Lily,” the old priest replied before excusing himself to greet some other family.

The whole service was as uneventful as one would expect, although Lily was so bored that she (unintentionally) made a couple of hats fall from the heads they were sitting on.

 

When they were finally outside, Lily approached Petunia.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean? It’s the same service Father Paul gives every year,” Petunia asked distractedly.

“Not that. The way you looked at me when I walked in.”

“Oh,” Petunia stood still for a second but started walking again before their parents would notice something was amiss. When she kept on talking her voice sounded awkwardly casual, as if trying to dismiss the whole situation as unimportant when knowing that it was anything but. “I thought you might catch fire or something.”

The answer left Lily even more confused than she already was. She could not follow her sister’s line of though, so she repeated what Petunia had told her. “You thought I might catch fire. Or something.”

Petunia huffed and looked exasperated at Lily, like she couldn’t believe how slow her sister was.

“I just mean that maybe you shouldn’t have come to church. I’m sure God wouldn’t want you to, being what you are.”

Lily couldn’t believe her ears. Her eyes were as wide as they could be and her jaw hanged opened. She didn’t know what the appropriate response to a comment like that was.

“God loves everyone. That’s why he’s God.” To be honest, Lily wasn’t sure she believed in God (she mostly didn’t, really), but if he (or she?) did exist, she was sure he wouldn’t be _that_ kind of god.

Petunia snorted, “Oh, don’t be daft, Lily. They used to burn people like you.”

For a second Petunia seemed to regret what she had just said, or maybe that was what Lily chose to perceive. Lily counted to three and when her older sister didn’t say anything more, didn’t apologise, she put her left foot in front of Petunia, making her trip and fall face first on the snow.

Their parents rushed to her and helped her stand up.

“I’m okay,” she said and looked accusingly (but discretely) at Lily. “I just tripped.”

Lily was fighting back tears. She didn’t want to make a scene. She needed to get away from them.

“Mum, dad, can I go to Sev’s?”

“Now, honey?” asked her mum.

Lily new they didn’t like Severus very much. They have met their parents once, and they hadn’t made a good impression. In Lily’s opinion they shouldn’t judge Severus by his parents; after all he was nothing like them, and he didn’t even like them that much.

“I need to give him his present,” she explained, taking out the package from her pocket, but her mother didn’t seem convinced. Lily kept on trying not to cry, and trying not to look like she was trying not to cry. “I promise I’ll be in time to help with dinner. Please?”

“Alright, but don’t take too long.”

Lily didn’t even respond. She just took one of the streets that wondered to her left. It wasn’t the shortest way, and it was definitely not the one she would’ve chosen in any other circumstances, but she could feel tears welling in her eyes and she needed to get away.

 

As soon as she was sure she was out of her family’s sight she started crying. She walked as fast as she could without breaking into a run. How could she say those things? Witch-burning was a low blow, even for Petunia.

Her face was red from her crying and her rage. She noticed the ends of her scarf tremble and rise in a menacing way. Each tip started to pull towards opposite sides and she suddenly felt the scarf tightening around her neck. With a quick movement she disentangled the fabric that threatened to choke her.

“Bloody magic!” she muttered in frustration. She thought she had enough control over her powers to stop them from acting up whenever she was upset, but clearly she didn’t.

She stopped walking and leaned against a tree. She needed to calm down. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted up to ten. She wasn’t crying any longer, but her face was wet with tears, so she used the scarf to wipe them. She rubbed the frost from the mirror of the only parked car in the street and inspected her reflection. Her whole face was puffy and red from crying. Sev’s house was two blocks away; luckily it was cold enough to blame the state of her face on the weather, because there was no way her face would be normal by the time she arrived there.

 

Lily could see Severus’ small body from the corner. His typical black attire contrasted starkly with the snowy winterland that was the street.

“Hi, there, Sev,” Lily greeted as she approached the boy, a sincere smile spreading across her face and pushing the pain of Petunia’s comments to the back of her mind.

Severus looked up and smiled too. To most people it might’ve looked more like a grimace than a sign of friendliness, but Lily knew that was just the way his mouth worked.

“Hullo. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Lily replied.

It was cold outside, but he didn’t ask her to come into the house. She didn’t expect him to, really. In the couple of years they had been friends, Lily had never –not once- been inside of the Snape’s house.

“I’ve got something for you,” she announced in a sing-song voice as she took the small packet from her pocket.

He looked at her but didn’t reach out her arm to accept the proffered gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

She rolled her eyes, “I know I didn’t _have to_ , silly. I wanted to.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he replied, still not sure of how to react.

“You didn’t _have to_ ,” she laughed. “C’mon, Sev, just take the gift and say thank you.”

Finally, he took what Lily was offering. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a pleased smile. “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Severus unwrapped the present with as much care as he could manage. Eventually a pair of handmade bracelets emerged from the colourful wrapping paper. Severus studied them with attention.

Lily started to get unsure about the present. What if he thought it was dumb?

“One’s for you and the other’s for me,” she explained. “So we’ll have matching bracelets.”

Severus looked up. His eyes were huge, but he was smiling. Lily sighed in relief: he liked them.

“Come here,” she instructed him and he obeyed. She tied one of the bracelets around his wrist. “Now you,” and he did the same for her.

An idea seemed to have occurred to Severus. Lily noticed the spark in his eyes even before he excused himself and told her to wait there while he went into the house.

In a matter of minutes he was out again, holding an awkwardly wrapped package. “Here,” he said as he gave it to her.

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to give me anything, really.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just take the gift and say thank you,” he said in a mocking tone.

She laughed and stuck out her tongue, but took the gift. “Thank you,” she said as she tore the wrapper away.

Whatever she was expecting to receive, it wasn’t that. “I can’t accept this, Sev!” she said seriously. She looked at Severus and then back at the gift: it was an old copy of _The Tales of_ _Beedle the Bard_ , worn at the edges and only holding itself together by mere luck (or maybe magic). “I can’t accept it,” she repeated. “You love _Beedle the Bard_!”

Severus blushed and shrugged. “So do you, and I’ve had it since I was two. Now it’s your turn to have it.” A smile crept on his face, “besides I don’t even need it anymore, I know it by heart: _There was once a handsome, rich and talented young warlock…_ ”

Lily mimicked shivering in disgust. “Why is it always _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_?”

“Because it’s the best story!”

“It’s the most gruesome!”

“Exactly!” he laughed.

Lily shook her head in mock disappointment. It was easy to forget that Severus Snape was a ten-year-old boy. He didn’t talk like one and he didn’t dress like one, at least not like the ten-year-olds Lily knew from school. But then she was sure that if those boys from school ever read _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , most of them would also choose _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ as their favourite, and for the same reason.

“You’re such a _boy_ ,” she said. He only shrugged.

Suddenly there came a noise from inside the house, like a hundred plates being smashed at the same time, followed by angry shouting.  Severus flinched and seemed to shrink. Lily couldn’t imagine what Christmas at the Snapes’ would be like, but she didn’t think it would be particularly warm or cheerful. For a second she almost asked him to come for dinner, but then she imagined Petunia’s reaction and decided it would not be the best idea. Any other year she would’ve done it, but this Christmas had to be perfect, and even if things were going terribly so far she knew that bringing Sev along would only be courting disaster.

“Our letters should be arriving next month,” he reminded her tearing his eyes away from the awful house that loomed behind them. She knew he couldn’t wait to get away. 

“Yes,” she said.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t sound too excited.”

“Oh, I am,” she said earnestly, half smiling. Then she casted her eyes down and when she spoke again she didn’t sound so certain. “It’s just that… Do you ever fear that they won’t come? That maybe this is just a mistake, or something, that we’re not good enough to go to Hogwarts?”

Lily looked up just in time to see him direct a glance to one of the windows, where the slight movement of the curtains suggested that someone had been looking out. Probably his father.

“That’s nonsense,” he said briskly.

“I know, but I can’t help thinking about it.” She stopped for a second and considered whether she should tell him what she was about to say. She knew he wouldn’t understand, but she didn’t have anyone else to talk with. “Sometimes I wonder if it might be best if my letter didn’t come.”

There, she’d said it.

“Are you insane, Lily?” he exploded. His eyes were so wide they took almost all of his face.

“I don’t know how my parents are going to react, and I know _exactly_ how Petunia is going to react. What if my family falls apart because of me, Sev?” She wasn’t sure how she was keeping from crying, but she was glad she wasn’t sobbing –again.

He looked at her with that expression she particularly hated, the one that seemed to drip contempt.

“You shouldn’t care about what those muggles think,” he admonished with that haughty voice he adopted to go with the face. “We’re better than them.”

She gave him a sad, weary look. She was tired of hearing him say those things when she knew perfectly well that they were not true. Whenever he got into that mindset he reminded her a bit of Petunia. They were like two sides of the same coin, and Lily was always stuck in the middle.

“We’re no better than anyone, Sev.” She didn’t feel like fighting, Christmas was going bad enough as it was. “I should really get back. I promised mum I would go back in time to help with dinner. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see ya,” he replied.

She nodded, unable to conjure an honest smile, and walked away with _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ under her arm.

 

Lily noticed that Petunia was on a mission to ignore her: she didn’t look at her when she came back home, she didn’t look at her when they listened to the Queen’s speech on the wireless, she didn’t look at her when they set up the table together. But surely now, with each of them holding one end of a cracker, she had to face her.

She was right, of course. It would have been too obvious to ignore her little sister when being addressed so directly, and the only thing Petunia wanted was to keep everything hidden for as long as it could be.

They pulled until they heard the small explosion and then Lily was left with the bigger half.

“Of course she gets the prize!” Petunia blurted involuntarily. “She gets everything!”

Mr. Evans’ eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his wife gasped a disbelieving “Petunia!”

Petunia looked at them and had the decency of looking ashamed.

“That was incredibly rude,” their father pointed out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t apologise to us, apologise to your sister,” reproached their mother.

Lily was holding the butterfly-shaped hairpin and the red paper crown that had come in the cracker. She had been observing the whole scene from the sidelines. In any other situation Lily would’ve given Petunia the hairpin as a peace offering, but that day Petunia seemed to be crossing way too many lines and Lily wasn’t sure her sister deserved an olive branch.

Petunia looked her right in the eye and said “I’m sorry, Lily.” She was being honest, Lily could tell. She could also tell that she wasn’t only apologising for the comment she had just made. They kept looking at each other. For a second Lily thought about giving her the hairpin or the crown, about forgiving her, about forgetting what she had said; but she held back. She needed to stand up for herself. She would accept her apology but she wouldn’t forget. And she would keep the hairpin and the crown.

“It’s fine,” she replied as she crowned herself.

 

As soon as dinner was over, Petunia excused herself saying she had a headache and went to her bedroom. Both her parents looked at her disapprovingly, but let her go.

The remaining Evanses went to the kitchen and started with the dishes: Mrs. Evans did the actual washing, Lily was in charge of drying and her father of putting everything away.

Mrs. Evans stifled a yawn.

“Go to bed, mum. I’ll finish this up,” Lily told her mother.

“No, it’s fine, it’ll just take me a minute. Besides I’m not that tired,” she replied, but was betrayed by a second yawn.

Lily shared a knowing look with her father.

“Dad, take her to bed before she falls asleep on the sink.”

“Sorry, love, orders are orders,” he said to her wife. Putting one arm behind her knees and another behind her back, he lifted her in a swift movement.

“Thomas!” Mrs. Evans laughed against her husband’s shoulder and went red as a tomato.

“D’you want me to come back and help you, love?” he asked to his daughter.

“I can handle it,” she replied with a smile.

As her parents went up the stairs she heard her mother muttering “Oh, Lord, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I didn’t use to get so tired,” to which Lily just chuckled quietly.

It took her a bit longer to finish everything, but only because she got distracted trying (with astonishing success) to magic bubbles into and out of existence. By the time she was done the house was quiet. Her parents were, without a doubt, asleep. But if she knew her sister, and despite everything, she did, Petunia would still be awake. Neither of them could sleep well after an argument.

 

Lily crept up the stairs and slowly opened Petunia’s door. There was no light except for a beam of moonlight that came through the window, but it was enough for Lily to see her in her bed, with her back turned against the door, pretending to sleep but not sleeping at all.

Lily walked into the room, closed the door as quietly as she had opened it, and leaned against the wall. “I know you’re awake.”

Petunia didn’t say anything.

“You were nasty today,” Lily observed. “Really nasty.”

Lily was sure that she would try to contradict her, but she didn’t. She only sat up and turned on her bedside light.

“I wanted this Christmas to be perfect, but you always make everything so difficult, Tuney!” Lily stated. “It’s our favourite holiday and next year is going to be so different and I don’t know what’s going to happen. I wanted this Christmas to be nice, because what if it’s our last one together?”

Petunia turned around. “What do you mean ‘our last’?”

“I’m not dumb,” Lily snorted. “You don’t like me because I’m a witch, and you’re not going to like me any more once I’m off to Hogwarts.”

“Well, you’re right about that.”

“I know. I wish I wasn’t though.”

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, and when Petunia was about to say something, she heard Lily sobbing.

“Are you crying?” Lily, who was still standing by the door, didn’t reply. “Come here,” she said.

Lily approached her sister and sat down on the bed. Now that she was near the light, Petunia could clearly see that she was indeed weeping.

“I need you on my side, Tuney,” Lily managed to say in between sobs. “Mum and dad don’t know anything yet. What if they’re upset or angry or scared? What if they hate me?”

“They won’t, Lily, I promise.” She stroked her little sister’s head a little awkwardly and hoped that it would come across as reassuring.

“You really think so?” Lily asked, wiping away her tears.

“They think everything you do is great. You’re perfect,” there was a tinge of jealousy in those words, but she managed keep it under control. “They love you. They will accept you.”

Petunia was sure she was right. Their parents doted on Lily, and there was no way that her magical powers could diminish their fondness for her. If anything, it was proof that their extraordinary little girl was unquestionably special.

“If you think they will accept me,” inquired Lily, eyes dried but still red, “why don’t you?”

“It’s…” Petunia thought for a moment, looking for the right words. “It’s… disturbing, Lily. The things you do… I mean, people are not supposed to do those things.”

“It’s not _the things I do_! It’s who I am, who I’ve always been. I’m the same me, only now I know myself better,” Lily tried to explain, but seeing that Petunia wasn’t getting it she just huffed in exasperation. “Magic is not evil, Tuney. I wish you could see that!”

Petunia didn’t say anything, so Lily stood up. As she was walking towards the door the voice of her sister stopped her.

“I do love you, you know? Even if you terrify me, and even if I hate you, you’re still my baby sister and I will always love you –if that makes sense.”

Lily turned around to face her. For the first time since Lily had entered her room Petunia looked her straight into the eyes. It was as if she was asking something of her, but Lily wasn’t sure what.

“No, it doesn’t,” she replied, because it didn’t make sense. You couldn’t hate and love someone at the same time; or maybe you could, but then Lily didn’t want that kind of love.

Petunia nodded, defeated. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, Lily.”

“Yeah, me too. Merry Christmas, Tuney.”

“Merry Christmas, Lily.”

Lily approached the door, hoping that Petunia might say something else, something to make it all better. But Petunia didn’t say anything, and so she walked out of her room in complete silence.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a series of fics looking into the last Christmas before the Marauders (and Lily) went to Hogwarts. I have some ideas for the others but Merlin knows when I'll write them down, so for now it's only Lily's story.  
> As always kudos and comments are more than welcome :)


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